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And you hate being vulnerable. Now, I'm not going to force you stay here, but I will explain why you should, and I think you'll make the right decision." "Fine," I huffed, "explain." "Let's have a little talk then." He gently steered me into the living room. We sat down on the couches. "Do you really think I tortured you?" he asked me. He was trying to get me fixated on those hypnotic eyes again, the sneak. "Considering your background and mine, I wouldn't throw that word around." "No," I muttered. I looked at him, "But you spanked me really hard!" His face twitched. He was fighting a grin. And he looked delicious doing it. The prick. "Yes," he replied, "I spanked you really hard, Alexandria. I corrected you, but I did not abuse you. Would you agree?" "Yes," I sighed. "And ok, you didn't kidnap me. Fine! But I don't understand why I like this stuff. It's not me. And it's weirding me out. Majorly." "I understand," he told me. "Needing to be dominated comes from deep down." He. His eyes focused on mine as he slowly reconfirmed what he thought he had heard. They dropped to my breasts, covered by a loose blouse but impossible to hide. Then he saw the wet spot on my shorts. I gave him ten seconds to stare at me and then I pushed him onto his back."And for the last ten years, you've been avoiding every chance, every offer, every opportunity to make love to me" I said, dropping my shorts to the floor and throwing one leg over his middle, straddling him on the bed. "That ends right here, right now. It's time to move on."Trust me; it had been one bitch of a time getting Daddy into my pussy. Mom had died when I was only 14 and he had to raise me. I was their only child and our closest relatives were over 1000 miles away. Daddy was making a great salary and there was no way that he was going to move me back to where some aunt could be shanghaied into helping me grow up.Before she had died, I'd already suffered through enough menstrual cycles. Mom had long since.
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